Father's Day

There are lots of great pictures from today (but none are uploading properly at the moment). Scott got his butt out of bed at the crack of dawn and competed in his first triathlon of the season. He's such a stud. He rocked out the swim/bike/run with a great time and an exhausted little body. The boys and I were there, of course, as his #1 fans. We drove separately and I got gas on the way home. Guess who was sweating his tail off mowing the lawn when I pulled up the driveway? The triathlon-competing, supposed-to-be-his-day-of-being-given-to, compulsively productive SCOTT ARTHUR! Was a .25 mile swim, 10 mile bike, and 5 k run NOT enough for him before noon? Ha!

Last story here... today was my first Father's Day without Dad, of course. I went on a nice long run yesterday morning and got to spend some time with him. I did lots of reminiscing about my dad and what he means to me (and cried a bit - by now I should know that crying + running does not make for air). Then, this morning, when I am rushing like it's my JOB to make it to the triathlon on time (of course, I didn't allow enough minutes for parking or for getting a good spot in the crowd (by "crowd," I mean the Rochester version of a crowd!)), I pulled a John Johnson parking job; the lot was totally filled, so I just mozied right up to one of the curbs between rows. A TOTAL makeshift spot. As I so often do, I was talking to myself in the act... I couldn't help but give a little giggle after I heard myself say, "Now kids... I'm gonna park in a bit of a weird way, not quite the normal spot to park in. You know who taught me this? You know who used to do this ALL the time? PAPA JOHN!" When I turned to check out their silent response, they were both too busy stuffing their mouths with cashews and ritz crackers out of their snack cups (did I mention we didn't have time for a sufficient breakfast???) to give two flips about where and why we parked where we did. Ahh, ONE DAY, Dad. ONE DAY they will understand all you taught me!